A Deep Breath of Black Air
by num1Ironhidefan
Summary: Post the first movie, though contains historical information from Revenge of the Fallen. It takes place two days before Bumblebee meets up with Sam and signals the Autobots to Earth. Rated T just in case.
1. Prologue

No, this is not my second story, I deleted the others for…personal reasons.

This is my prologue: )

It's basically the history of Cybertron, or at least as much as I could piece together from the two movies. Though I do not own the history, I did attempt to fill in the holes as best as I could with my own spark. I hope it does not bore too much.

The first chapter promises to be more involved, for it is when the story starts and I get to play around a bit with the characters, which I do not own either.

If I owned the Transformers, I would not be sitting at this computer writing about them, I would be making a fortune off the movies, cartoons, comic books, and what not.

Though, I have made it a life goal to at least own Ironhide before I die. My mom says I should make goals.  
~~

Prologue—The History of Cybertron

The sky was dark as columns of smoke billowed from a burn planet and into the sky. Blasts could be heard in the distance, and occasionally a pillar of fire would join with one of the smoke columns, lighting the dark air with an ominous, orange flare.

For years, war had raged on Cybertron, a rather small planet deep in space. It was a planet that sustained life, thought not life as most know it. The inhabitants, called Cybertroneons, were Autonomous Robotic Organisms whose very existence was due to the Allspark.

No one has yet to find the origin of this Allspark, but it's purpose, it's function is all too well known. This Allspark is energy, raw power. It is neither living, nor dead, and yet is has the ability to create life. This Allspark, for a foreign reason, decided that, deep in space, on a small, metallic planet, life was needed. And so, one day, or perhaps it was evening, organisms were placed on the planet, and the planet was sparked with life.

These 'robots' were humanoid, for they looked like humans, with limbs, torso, a head, the basic physical structure. They breathed the air of the planet they had inhabited, and lived off of it, as humans live off of their own planet. They spoke their own language of Cybertroneon, later known as the Language of the Primes; built up their own ranking system; and strived as an advanced civilization in the fields of weaponry, medicine, combat, and, most importantly, leadership and the importance of keeping one's society stable. The last one was the most important, and the first to fall.

The earliest ancestors of the Cybertroneons were Primes, strong, able leaders who lead the search around their system in search for suns needed for energy. Then had built a great machine, one that could harness the energy of a sun, no matter how small or large it was, and use the energy to feed the Cybertroneons. It was an efficient machine approved by all; but, of course, it had it's side-effects. When the energy was sucked from a sun in such a way, the sun was unable to sustain itself. The sun would implode, rendering the planets it had given light to uninhabitable.

The Primes had vowed not to use their new machine on suns around which inhabited planets orbited. One of their fellow brothers, though, was not so merciful to smaller, weaker, less organisms than them, and found the perfect sun to feast upon. He built up the machine upon a planet not much larger than their own; this planet, though, was greatly populated. The rest of the Primes soon found out of their brother's treachery, and came to the planet their brother had selected. A great war broke out upon the planet as the Primes restrained their brother. Finally, after a long period of four days, they succeeded in sending their brother from the planet, and buried the machine beneath the sand that covered the planet's surface; but their job was not done yet.

Knowing their brother would one day return, they decided they would need to hide the Matrix of Leadership, the key that activated the deadly machine their brother had built upon the planet. They traveled miles away from the buried machine, going further than they had explored of the small planet, and found a mountainside that looked promising. The Primes molded together a tomb of their own bodies, sealing the Matrix of Leadership within.

Years, decades, centuries passed as the tomb was slowly buried, as well, under the cover of the sand. The Cybertroneons' memory deteriorated, as the stories of the Primes did, and each generation knew less and less of these ancestors who had given their lives to protect the future of Cybertron and the rest of the galaxy. Within a few centuries, all knowledge of the Primes, except for the fact of them being great leaders long ago, was lost in the minds of the elders, who refused to speak their stories for fear history would repeat itself.

Peace was restored to Cybertron, though it was not the same peace that had held during the time of the Primes. Wars broke out often, arguments kept brothers apart, and life on Cybertron was no longer something to boast of. The government fell apart, and dictatorship reigned. All luck feigned, except the last bit that had been allowed to hold: their dictator was a peace-loving Cybertroneon who longed to bring his planet back to the stability he was sure it had once held; but this luck did not hold long enough.

A band of Cybertroneons known as Decepticons formed, led by Megatron. They came with numbers on their side and used force to take what was left of the government out, to destroy the remaining system of Cybertron and bring Megatron up as the next dictator.

The Decepticons scarred the planet with death as they began with the destruction of the planet, and then moved on to those inhabitants who resisted their reign. At first, none resisted, but id did not take long before a brave band of Cybertroneons, under the name of Autobots, fought back with a strength that matched that of the Revolutionaries, the Decepticons. Though there was still a disproportion in the ratio of Autobots and Decepticons, these Autobots were not to be underestimated. They were the best of the best, and more importantly, they had a Prime on their side. The Decepticons could not say so much. And so, the Cybertroneon Civil War had begun.

For years, as previously stated, this Civil War raged on. It was an even fight at first, when slowly the Autobots began to dwindle in numbers, and only a small handful of them were left. Even worse was when news of the Decepticon leader, Megatron, reached the Autobots about his finding this Allspark, or at least had knowledge of it's location. This news immediately spelled poorly for the Autobots, for they knew of the Allspark's power and feared for what purpose Megatron would harness it's energy. Immediately, three Autobots were sent after Megatron, following him to earth, a planet unknown to them.

For weeks the three Autobots searched earth for Megatron. When they had scanned the entire planet, on only slightly larger than their own Cybertron, and had come up fruitless, they scanned it again, only to find no trace of the Decepticon leader. They returned to their own planet, to find that, in their absence, the Autobots had lost nearly half of their handful of brave soldiers, and that a new Decepticon had temporarily taken up Megatron's place as leader of the Decepticons.

The Autobots were slowly forced into hiding, and though most did not wish to stand down and flee, they knew it was the only option if they, and the peace they fought for, were to survive.


	2. In Hiding

Underneath the burning ground, in a proportionally small chasm, a group of three Autobots were seated. A dark shadow rested upon them as they waited, on one of them patiently, for something untold by the stretching silence. Finally, one of the Autobots, the smallest of the three, spoke up.

"Optimus," he said, his voice deep and verging on demanding. Impatience was clearly detected in his tone. "It's been three days."

A larger Autobot, the one called Optimus, nodded. Yes, he knew this. It had been three days, eight hours, forty-two minutes, and…ten seconds, to be exact. He had counted every second, ever since he sent one of their comrades to earth. Optimus, though, decided speaking his thoughts would not help the situation. Instead, he stood up and walked a few steps from the circle of Autobots, looking up at a rather small trap door in the ceiling of their underground hide out. He blinked up at it, a frown upon his face. The door was small, and he would have to squeeze his large form through it. He turned to the smaller Autobot, nodding him over under the trap door.

"Jazz," Optimus said to the smallest Autobot, his own voice monotonous and surprisingly not as deep as the Autobot's voice, whom he called Jazz. "Go check on Ironhide."

Jazz smiled, nodding. "Finally," he replied with obvious relief. "I need to et out of this hole." Jazz jumped up, grabbing the handle on the trap door, and twisted it, pulling the hatch down. He them jumped up again, grabbing one of the sides of the hole in the ceiling and shoving himself out of the underground cavern, looking down to watch Optimus shut the hatch and lock it once more.

Jazz took a long and deep breath, stretching out his stiff limbs. Though the air was putrid and thick with smoke and burning gasoline, I smelled oddly better than the stuffy air underground. Sighing, Jazz immediately went in defensive mode, looking around quickly for any stray Decepticons. He crouched low, ducking behind whatever was left, and often found himself slipping into craters left behind by the destructive bombs when war had swept this area of the planet. He moved in and out of each crater, scanning the area for Ironhide, keeping an eye out for Decepticons.

Ironhide was no where in sight, but Jazz did not want to risk calling out to his fellow Autobot for fear someone else, other than Ironhide, would hear him. Instead, he kept forward, listening carefully for any noise that would give the larger Autobot's position away. Suddenly, a loud blast shook the silence. Jazz whipped his head to the left; he recognized those cannons.

Jazz got up out of one of the craters, running towards where the cannon blast had come from. It was not long before he caught sight of the medium-sized Autobot—he was hard to miss with the large, black cannons upon his back and at the end of his arms. Jazz rushed forward, quickly taking notice of the three rather large Decepticons Ironhide had picked a fight with.  
~~

Ironhide ducked as a cannon blast broke just above him, then dived under another, throwing one cannon-armed arm at one of the Decepticons and blasting a hole through his chest. The Decepticon fell, and before he could force himself up, Ironhide was on him, sticking his left cannon to the Decepticon's head and blasting it off. Ironhide lifted both arms pointing them at the other two Decepticons. He fired twice, ducked out of their line, and then fired thrice more. As always, Ironhide's aiming was unmatched, and as one Decepticon fell, the other ran, fleeing for the next patrol in order to call for aid. Ironhide would not have it and, with one more blast from his cannon, the third and final Decepticon was down.

Ironhide rolled his neck, shaking his shoulders out. He glanced over to his right, finally noticing Jazz.

"You enjoy the show?" Ironhide asked, his voice gruff, but friendly.

"Actually, as a matter of fact," Jazz replied, a slight frown upon his face. "I was rather disappointed."

Ironhide crossed his arms, demanding an explanation. Jazz shrugged, his expression lighting up as a smile split his face.

"It wasn't loud enough."

Ironhide groaned, holding up one of his smoking cannons and staring intently at the hot metal. All the parts seemed to be in order. He grunted questioningly, and then shrugged.

"Optimus tells me I'm too loud," he finally replied. "So, what brought you out here?" Ironhide asked, changing the subject.

Jazz sighed, placing his hands on his hips and bowing his head slightly.

"Bumblebee," he replied, looking up at Ironhide's knowing face. "Any sign of him?" Jazz asked, though he already knew the answer. He wanted to hear it from Ironhide.

Ironhide shook his head, frowning.

"No, nothing. The sky's been drawing blank apart from the occasional Decepticon sentry. Man, is it hard letting them past."

"Easy, Ironhide," Jazz replied warningly, taking a step closer to the larger Autobot. "I know how you feel, watching those Decepticon scum get by and unable to at least give 'em a mark to remember, but we can't have anything, or anyone, jeopardizing our mission."

Ironhide sighed, nodding. He had received this lecture from Optimus more times than he could remember, and yet he still managed to forget it upon occasion.

"Besides," Jazz went on in a lighter tone. "If Optimus found you messing around with the Decepticon scouts, he would kill you—and I don't know what we would do without our weapons' specialist." Jazz smiled, and then nodded towards the trapdoor he had come out of, a bit of a ways away.

"C'mon, let's meet up with the others."

Ironhide shook his head, his cannons at the end of his arms pulling back and transforming into a pair of large hands.

"No, I better stay out here," he replied, nodding towards the sky. "The directed time of day is approaching. If sent, the signal Bumblebee's supposed to send should be visible most in this lighting."

Jazz frowned, and then sighed, nodding his head.

"Alright," he replied, coming to stand next to Ironhide. "But I ain't leaving you out here alone. That racket you made would probably wake up Megatron, and I would hate to leave you here by yourself only to have Megatron pick this day to wake up and come back to reek his havoc."

Ironhide grunted, shaking his arms as the cannons took their place where his lower arms had been.

"If I had my choice, I would wake Megatron myself, right now," Ironhide replied gruffly. "I'd take him on myself, and be done with this d—war."

Jazz laughed, shaking his head.

"Ironhide, you know as well as I do no one but a Prime can beat Megatron in a one-on-one fight. And, last time I checked, you ain't a Prime."

Ironhide merely grunted, bringing his guns in and replacing his hands. Jazz smiled. Ironhide had always been one to act in such a manner and, though he knew the suggestion to be preposterous, he did not deny his longing to defeat Megatron and his Decepticons once and for all.


	3. Bad Company

Three hours had passed since Jazz had gone out to find Ironhide, and Optimus Prime was not as good as Ratchet at hiding his concern.

"Where are those two?" Optimus burst out suddenly, making Ratchet jump. It is said that people, humans, mask fear with anger, and that did not seem far from the truth for these Autonomous Robotic Organisms; Optimus was proving this. He was, admittedly, afraid of what had happened to his two comrades, and certainly was expressing his fear in a rather raised and angry voice.

Ratchet, sensing the flickering of the larger Autobot's spark, looked up at the fuming Prime. Ratchet sighed, shaking his head and standing up as best he could in the small hole. He had been reviewing Optimus's spark for the past three hours, and could detect the steady of the rate at which it flickered. Apart from his medical observation, he was long enough a friend of Optimus to see through his mask of calm.

"I'm sure they're all right, Optimus," Ratchet reassured him, though he was not sure he believed these words himself. "Jazz probably just stayed with Ironhide and forgot to relay this to us. Ratchet glanced down at a small, blank screen on his lower arms, and a frown crossed his face. He was not getting any readings on either Ironhide or Jazz, but he dared not widen the range of his scan, for fear of being detected by unwanted Decepticons. Like Optimus, he was worried for what had caused even Jazz to go so far out of range.

*0*

Ironhide ran forward, ducking under a swinging arm. He jumped up behind one of the Decepticons and grabbed onto it's back. He shoved one of his cannons into the Decepticon's mouth, blasting his head to small particles. Ironhide got off the Decepticon, jumping to the next one before the dead Decepticon had hit the ground.

Jazz weaved in and out of the battle, firing the machine gun that had morphed out of one of his arms. He was small enough to duck under most of the Decepticons' legs in order to come up behind them Jazz jumped from one Decepticon to another, almost as if he were using them as stepping stones across the flaming battle. He fired at the Decepticons, careful no to shoot Ironhide in the tangled mess of hand-to-hand combat.

Ironhide was pushed to the ground. He gripped the Decepticon attached to him firmly, whipping his attacker to the side so that Ironhide was on top of him. Ironhide stuck one of his cannons to the Decepticon's head, blasting it off as he fired upon advancing Decepticons with his other cannon. A rocket launcher appeared out of the side of his right arm, while a rapid-fire energy cannon came out of his left, and a machine gun pulled itself out of his back. Ironhide looked upon the rest of the Decepticons with a terrible grin, and charged.

Ironhide fired rocket after rocket while diving and dodging blows from the decepticons. He received a hot blast to his back, but this only made him all the angrier. Grunting his disapproval, Ironhide blasted the Decepticons around him continuously with his cannons, then fired his rockets and finished them off with his machine gun.

When Jazz had seen Ironhide's grin, he had known what was coming. Out of habit when Ironhide pulled out another one of his new toys, Jazz dived down, tucking himself in one of the craters made by one of Ironhide's cannons. He waited the rest of the battle out, looking up only once to see exactly what toys Ironhide had equipped himself with. They were new additions, which added quite a bit of Ironhide's original size. Jazz momentarily considered this, and then shook his head. No, more weapons would only make him bulky and clumsy; Ironhide seemed the only Autobot he knew who could load himself up with such weaponry and still walk as quietly and as neatly as before.

Ironhide grunted with satisfaction, blinking around for Jazz. He glanced among the pieces of Decepticons; not even attempting to identify the parts lat lay strewn across the floor. This bothered Ironhide, though, when two minutes had passed and he still had not caught sight of Jazz. Frowning, Ironhide resisted the urge to call out. Blinking against the putrid air, he focused his optics, scanning for the slightest movement.

"Told you it would attract attention."

Ironhide spun around towards the voice, his frown disappearing, taken over by a relieved smile.

"I thought you had said it wasn't loud enough," Ironhide replied gruffly, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. Jazz laughed, coming up besides Ironhide, shrugging.

"Well, if your earlier display wasn't loud enough, this one sure was. I only got my hands on three of 'em before you blasted 'em all away."

Ironhide smiled, staring at his right hand as the white-hot cannon transformed back into a hand. The left cannon did the same, as the rest of Ironhide's guns were pulled into his hide.

"Sorry, Jazz,' he replied, shrugging. "Next time I'll remember to leave you a few more."

Jazz shook his head, waving his hand disbelievingly.

"Uh-huh, right," he replied. "You know you have too much fun testing your toys out on Decepticons."

Ironhide did not deny Jazz's accusation, mostly because he knew it to be true. Ironhide was about to reply when something caught his optics. He zoomed in on something in the sky, his expression in set concentration.

Jazz caught the look on Ironhide's face and turned to where Ironhide was gazing. He, too, dialed in on the position in space that had caught the weapon specialists' attention. There in the sky, due north-east, flickered a weak, white light.

"Is it--?"

"Yup," Jazz replied before Ironhide could finish his question. Hope flared in the small 'bot as his blue optics shone brighter. He turned to Ironhide.

"You wait here," Jazz ordered, glancing up at the strengthening light in the sky. "Ward off any unwanted Decepticons who may have seen Bumblebee's signal."

"Will do," Ironhide nodded, grunting as he brought out his four energy cannons; the machine gun; rocket launcher; the smaller, rapid-fire cannon; and something else that Jazz had not yet seen. Jazz stared at the elongated cannon-looking weapon that had come out the side of Ironhide's left energy cannon, and then glanced up at Ironhide questioningly. Ironhide merely smiled and held his left arm up. He pointed the new weapon at the ground, and a thick stream of orange flame burst forth from the opening. When the fire ceased, Jazz sighed, shaking his head, though a smile was present on his face.

"Flame-thrower? What else you got hidden in that big bulk of your?"

Ironhide shrugged, grunting. Though he did have a few more surprises hidden in him, he figured he ought to keep them in for now. They were, you could say, his back-up weapons—in case one of his were destroyed in a battle and he was unable to fix it on the spot. Ironhide was rather quick to change the subject.

"Well?" he asked, which caught Jazz's attention from himself and back on track.

"Right," he replied, blinking his optics and nodding temporary farewell to Ironhide. "I'll go inform Optimus."

"Mm," came Ironhide's reply as he turned his attention to scanning the area around him, zooming his optics in on further distances. Jazz was reluctant to leave Ironhide alone for, though he did not doubt the 'bot's strength and ability, he was unsure of whether the larger 'bot knew his extent. Jazz knew Ironhide could easily take five, maybe seven Decepticons, but did he know when to retreat and call for aid?

Jazz glanced temptingly at the small comm. Link on his arm, but knew it unwise to contact Optimus through the device. The comm was a simple form of communication, and easily tapped. Anything said through the device was sure to be detected by a nearby Decepticon.

"I'll be back as soon as possible," Jazz said in final parting. Ironhide merely grunted in acknowledgement. Jazz turned and, moving quickly and silently, raced back to Optimus Prime and Ratchet.

*0*

It had not been a minute after Ironhide had heard Jazz depart when movement behind Ironhide caught his attention. Ironhide turned, and then dived just in time as the ground he had previously occupied exploded and blackened rock and debris fogged the air. Ironhide coughed as dust was sucked into his vents. He blinked, looking up to see a Decepticon charging at him, cannon at the ready. Ironhide dived out of the way of another blast, hoisting his loaded arms and firing. Two cannon blasts smashed the Decepticon's chest and a rocket followed. A frown crept across Ironhide's face when the Decepticon kept charging, and then he recognized the 'bot.

Barricade.

Ironhide shot his energy cannons, then braced for impact. Barricade barreled into Ironhide, and they tumbled backwards. Ironhide brought his fist to Barricade's face, snapping the Decepticon's neck back. Barricade kicked out, slamming his knee across Ironhide's shoulder, and then slamming his foot to the side of Ironhide's head. Ironhide grunted, ducking under Barricade's swinging arm. Ironhide somersaulted out of the way of Barricade, taking a shot with his rocket launcher as he did so. Barricade stumbled backwards, but caught his footing. He wiped out a machine gun, and Ironhide dived out of the way as Barricade started firing at him. Barricade growled as Ironhide evaded him, and then stumbled backwards as Ironhide blasted his energy cannon at the Decepticon's chest. Barricade barreled into Ironhide again, knocking Ironhide hard to the ground. Before Ironhide could shove Barricade off, the Decepticon shoved his cannon to Ironhide's chest, blasting a little below Ironhide's spark. The blast shoved Ironhide deeper into the ground, and shot Barricade up and off of the Autobot. Barricade tumbled off of Ironhide, and then took off running.

Ironhide grunted as he rolled onto his chest, wincing as his singed parts grinned together uncomfortably. He looked up to see Barricade running towards a launching pad, and Ironhide finally became aware of the Decepticon's intent. Ironhide slammed his fist, hard, on the ground, growling in frustration. He jumped up and took off after Barricade, ignoring his jumbled, grinding parts where Barricade had left his mark; he had more pressing matters. Ironhide, for his bulky size, was surprisingly light on his feet; after all, he had been built for this sort of thing. But for all his speed, Barricade was faster. Ironhide growled once again in frustration as Barricade jumped onto the launch pad and readied himself quickly. Ironhide knew he would not be able to stop the Decepticon, but he was determined not to let Barricade leave without a few marks to remember him by.

Still running as fast as Ironhide could propel himself, he retracted all his weapons but the energy cannon on his left shoulder. As Barricade blasted off of the pad, Ironhide fired in rapid succession, hitting his target twice before Barricade was gone, leaving only a faint trail in the smoke above that led towards Earth. Ironhide grumbled, kicking his right foot into the ground, wincing slightly as the ends of his feet slammed into the metal pad.

Ironhide grunted, retracting his cannon and turning back to where he had taken up watch. He clenched his fists as he gazed around for any other Decepticons who had seen Bumblebee's signal. Bumblebee. Ironhide could only hope the smaller 'bot was ready for Barricade. Ironhide tried to give himself peace of mind by assuring himself he had at least weakened Barricade enough to give Bumblebee the advantage; but he still worried for the lone Autobot.


	4. The Deep Breath of Black Air

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with Transformers, though I cannot say I do not wish I did.

Chapter Three

Optimus looked suddenly at the trapdoor, hearing a small knock. He moved over until he was standing directly under it, and then opened it cautiously. When jazz dropped into the cavern, he quickly shut the hatch and locked it. He turned on Jazz with a none-too-happy expression.

"Where were you?" he growled, slightly odd, Jazz noted, for the large Autobot. Jazz merely shook his head, Optimus's towering stature and commanding voice not even phasing the smaller 'bot.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, waving his hand to dismiss Optimus's concern. "We saw Bumblebee's signal. I left Ironhide behind to try and keep as little Decepticons as possible from learning of Bumblebee's presence on Earth.

Ratchet stood up and walked over to Jazz and Optimus, light in his dull optics.

"Bumblebee's signal?" he asked, though the answer had already been produced.

Jazz merely nodded and turned back to Optimus.

"It is a day's journey to Earth," he reminded the larger 'bot, though he doubted Optimus had forgotten such details.

Optimus nodded, knowing the urgency of their quick arrival. He turned to Ratchet.

"Do you have everything you need?"

Ratchet nodded, shaking his arm slightly as medical scanners and tools took their place. He retracted the tools, and Optimus rime sighed.

If there was anything they were going to need most, it was Ratchet and his tools.

"Alright," he finally said, reaching up and opining the hatch. "Let's roll." Jazz jumped up through the hatch, a rather hopeful smile on his face. Ratchet followed close behind, slipping easily through the opened hatch. Optimus Prime had to maneuver himself around a bit, but he was finally able to get himself up and out of the small hole.

Optimus glanced around him, at the barren wasteland that had once been his home. He stretched his cramped limbs, taking a long, deep breath of the black air. Though acrid and clogged with smoke, the air outside was refreshing compared with the dirt-smelling air that he had been forced to breathe underneath. Blinking his optics, Optimus felt a slight tug at his spark as he turned his attention from his home planet.

Optimus did not bother to close the hatch; they certainly would not be returning there. He looked over at Jazz, who nodded in Ironhide's general direction. Taking up the lead, Optimus led the Autobots quickly and quietly to find Ironhide.

*0*

"Primus, Ironhide!"

Ironhide was already watching Jazz, Ratchet, and Optimus Prime walk his way. If he had not detected them, even he would have subjected himself, no matter how grudgingly, to a quick scan by Ratchet.

"You bite off a bit more than you could chew, 'Hide?"

Ironhide shrugged, though Jazz's comment did arouse some defensiveness in him.

"I was only doing what you told me to," he replied, rather gruffly.

"Hey, I'm just playin'," Jazz replied, laughing slightly at his fellow Autobot's retort. Ratchet walked up to Ironhide, running a scan on the weapons' specialist's damaged and charred metal. He was not laughing; nor did he hold even the slightest hint of a smile. He sighed, frustrated.

"You just had to go and get yourself shot at, didn't you?" he grumbled. Ironhide, wisely, did not answer. Jazz glanced around as Ratchet forced Ironhide to sit while he inspected him further. A slight frown passed Jazz's expression when he noticed the lack of any Decepticon remains at the site. He looked over at Ironhide, who was staring quite angrily at Ratchet as the medical 'bot began poking around at Ironhide's insides.

"Did he get away?" Jazz asked, but regretted it when Ironhide's angry look turned on him.

"'Course he got away," Ironhide spat out, receiving a warning glance from Optimus.

"Easy, Ironhide," he said, catching the embarrassment Ironhide had attempted to mask with anger in his voice. "Who was it?" he asked.

"Barricade," Ironhide grunted, then fell silent as if the name cleared up all other questions.

And then: "Optimus, we must leave immediately," Ironhide gladly changed the subject.

"You aren't going anywhere until I know you're ready. There's no way you're going to be of any use in this state," Ratchet stated, his words mater-of-fact. If they were going to continue their war on Earth, they were going to need Ironhide. Ironhide harrumphed, shaking Ratchet off of him and ignoring the glare he received from his doctor.

"I agree with Ironhide," Jazz spoke up, stepping forward. "If Barricade's already down there, that means more Decepticons will be on their way. Soon."

Ironhide stood up, earning himself a sharp reprimand from Ratchet.

"We can't leave Bumblebee down there alone…to defend himself against who knows how many Decepticons will be finding their way towards Earth."

Optimus looked down at Ratchet, who sighed in defeat.

"I guess they're right," he finally said, not liking the prospect himself of leaving Bumblebee alone for yet another day.

"But you better see me the moment we get there," he said, rounding on Ironhide.

"Will do, Doc," Ironhide grunted in acknowledgment.


End file.
